by Donovan Ortega
Crowds began to gather at 11 A.M. on Lake Worth Beach on June 26th to take part in Hands Across the Sand, a peaceful protest against offshore drilling.
Carol Fields of "Raging Grannies"
The movement began in Florida on February 13th of this year—before the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico—and united over 90 beaches across the state. It’s caught on quickly and Lake Worth is just one of the hundreds of beaches around the world in which protesters will join hands to form human chains of unity against off shore drilling. Surfriders, an environmental organization, pitched a tent at the base of the pier and an enthusiastic Tom Remmel hands out petitions.
“The oil spill was a wake up call,” says Tom Remmel, vice chair of Surfriders, “but we were aware of the horrible possibilities of offshore drilling before it happened. We had over 300 people out here in February, and we expect more than twice that number today.”
Men lean on the railings at the bar of Benny’s on the Beach. They talk about the surf and the oil spill and watch the crowds grow below them. Protesters carrying signs begin to appear. One sign says, “Find help to end your addiction to oil,” and Carol Fields wears it proudly around her neck. She is apart of the Raging Grannies, just one of the many organizations present that include Greenpeace, the Sierra Club, and Compass. Bill Morgan holds a sign that says, “Boycott BP,” and he smiles widely as his picture is taken, encouraged by the crowd that is bottlenecking at the stairs and spilling out onto the beach.
The line begins to form. It stretches to the north and south of the pier as participants look to their left and right, holding hands, not holding hands, clapping, laughing, and overall—having a good time. Barry Silver of the Environmental Coalition stalks the line with a mega-phone, shouting out encouragement, thanks, and direction.
“This looks great,” Silver yells as he walks in the surf wearing white tennis shoes, “This line looks like it’s a mile long. Thanks for coming out! Now slide down a little. We want this line as long as possible.”
The line grows. People who had planned on tanning are suddenly protesters, joining the line eagerly. A giant rainbow flag blows in the wind and is held by the Compass organization.
“Look how far that line goes,” says Compass member Taylor Stevens as he looks down the beach, “ but I think that the more we become known and the more we become organized, we can stretch this whole coast. That’s what we need to do.”
Barry Silver gathers his two children, Ari and Brandon, who are running up and down the beach and stops to watch the crowd dissipate. It’s 12:15 and the demonstration is over. Hundreds of people break the line and walk back to the street.
“This was spectacular,” says Silver, who lives in Boca Raton, “I would say there was about a thousand people out here today, drawing a line in the sand. We need to point the government in the right direction because they’ve been taking us in the wrong direction for a long time. This oil spill was not unpredictable. It was inevitable. ”